


One Small Request

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Berk [64]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hiccstrid - Freeform, yes it's yet another pregstrid drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Astrid interrupts her husband while he's venting.





	One Small Request

**One Small Request**

**-**

It’s cold in the Berk winters. The ice clings to every surface, making everything slick and black and dangerous. It’s already been a hard season, and the threat of war with a neighboring island has had the entire village on edge. The most frigid months still lie ahead, and even in Berk, resources get short. 

Astrid flinches when her husband’s ice leg is thrown with some mild aggression towards the door. She almost regrets asking him to switch to a leg that won’t stab the floorboards of their home, but not quite enough. Leaning carefully over the hearth, she ladles soup into a bowl for him. It should still be hot, even though the fire’s almost down to embers. Toothless has been sent to fetch more firewood. 

“Every single time I open my mouth, Spitelout has something smart to say.” Her husband’s mood is black, has been almost nonstop for a couple of weeks now. He’s scowling as he straps a comfortable old walking leg in place. His interchangeable prosthesis snapped in the snow a few days ago, and there’s been no time for him to sit down and fix it. 

“He’s Snotlout, but worse,” Astrid says gently, setting the bowl down in front of him. She pulls a chair up next to his and sits, putting a hand on his knee. “Let him talk all he wants. That’s all it is.”

“Yes, _he’s_ only talk, but there’s several people in the council who wouldn’t mind taking those words and trying to use them against me.” Taking a swig from the bowl, he sits forward on the edge of his seat. The gleam in his green eyes is hard. “Did you know they accused me of putting the dragons before the villagers yesterday? _Just_ because I suggested we allocate funds towards expanding the stables instead of fortifying the store houses?”

She tries not to cringe. She’d been one of the people pushing in favor of the fortification. Clearly not the best time to try and change his mind. “They know that’s not true. They’re only–”

“Only disappointed I’m not my dad,” he interrupts, voice frostier than the windowpanes. “Only convinced that I’m screwing up every time I make a decision.”

“Hiccup,” she chides sympathetically. She scoots her chair closer, running a hand through his hair to try and calm him. “The village loves you. Don’t let a few crotchety old men make you doubt yourself.”

“How can I not?” He sits up sharply, dislodging her hand with a batting motion that hurts more than she wants to show. Despite herself, she retracts her hand and glances away, looking up so the tears pricking her lashes won’t fall. “My mom says one thing, the council says another. The riders say go left and the merchants say go right. Everybody’s criticizing me, and I can’t do anything right. I can’t even give my wife the baby she wants, much less–”

“I’m pregnant.”

He must hear the quiet, sad crack in her voice. The rest of his sentence hangs in the air, half forgotten. 

After a long beat of silence, he recovers. His cold palm slides over her cheek, thumbing away an escaping tear. Hiccup searches her face. “You are? How long have you known? Why didn’t you say something?” The edge in his voice is melted away, left with a softness that makes her heart squeeze.

She shakes her head and shrugs, having a hard time making eye contact. “Just a few weeks. My mom was listing off all these things I shouldn’t do, and I was worried something would happen, and I didn’t want it to be one more thing for you to stress about until… I don’t know, until it was safe.”

“So you kept it a secret because you felt like you needed to protect me?” The guilt is clearly etched into his forehead. 

Astrid sniffs, nodding.

He sighs, reaching under her and pulling her chair close enough that she’s tucked between his legs. His arms slide around her, and he presses a chilly kiss to her neck. She can still feel the droplets of snow in his hair. “Don’t ever do that to me.” His command is a tender one. “Don’t put my feelings before yours just because you think it’ll upset me. Your needs are just as important as mine.”

She laughs tearily into his shoulder. “So if I said I needed something, you’d give it to me?”

There’s some relief in his chuckle. “As long as it’s within my power, of course I would.”

Astrid leans back, loosely knotting her fingers in his shirt. “Just smile.” She tilts her head and lets him push a rebellious few strands of hair away from her face. “I really need you to smile right now.”

“Astrid…” He grants her wish, and the warmth in his eyes is enough to melt the entire archipelago. Suddenly, her heart is fluttering, and there’s not a winter wind in sight. “We’re having a baby. If you wanted me to, I could dance.”

Again, she’s laughing. Despite the cold and the ice and the crotchety old men. She can feel her husband’s grin even through the kiss he presses firmly against her mouth. And she only pulls away long enough to ask, “Do you swear?”


End file.
